


won't you let my darling know

by brokenviridity



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Crying, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Romance, Suicide, Tragedy, all i know is pain, idk how else to describe it, pure angst, they love each other but don't know what to do about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25422097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenviridity/pseuds/brokenviridity
Summary: “thank you” was all he’d written. he left the note at the base of the oak three- their oak tree.it was enough. minho would know.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Kudos: 29





	1. constellations and seas of grey

**Author's Note:**

> strongly recommend listening to the slowed + reverb version of dandelion by ruth b while reading
> 
> jisung's backstory is extremely open to interpretation
> 
> tw! suicide
> 
> timeskip=❁>

_ if you can blow all the seeds off a dandelion with one breath, you'll be able to find true love.  _

whenever his mom said that, his face would light up and he'd fill himself with as much oxygen as his 8-year-old lungs could hold. his eyes always squeezed shut from the amount of effort he’d put into a single blow.

after he was sure that he used every possible ounce of air, he would slowly open his eyes and inspect the little green stem, proudly showing his mom a seed-free dandelion head. she would pat his head every single time and say “good job, min-min” with that voice of hers.

he hated the nickname, but hearing it come from his mom made him giggle and show his missing front tooth off with a painfully sweet smile.

❁

every single dandelion was worth it.

he was 16 when he first saw the clumsy first year- his hair was an ash blonde and not a single strand was in place. the laces of his red sneakers were both untied and his uniform blazer was barely hanging on to his small frame; minho couldn’t help the faint snort he let out as the boy approached him.

“my name is han jisung and i need to use the restroom really,  _ really  _ badly.”

❁

as the years flew by, it got harder and harder to ignore the feeling that bloomed in his chest every time jisung’s eyes met his. slowly, minho began to realize that it was much more than just adoration for a friend.

the boy began to take over his mind. jisung likes that cereal. jisung is lactose intolerant but still loves strawberry ice cream. jisung hates the color orange. jisung’s front tooth is slightly crooked. jisung has a habit of messing with his fingers when he’s nervous. jisung’s right eye twitches three times before an impending panic attack. jisung jisung jisung jisung jisung jisung jisung.

he liked him.

no, it was more than that

minho was in love with him.

❁

this was their second visit to the dandelion field down the street. 

they were sitting on a wooden bench that had definitely seen better days; yellow flowers were growing all around them. 

“minho,” jisung said.

he looked down at the older boy who had already claimed a spot on the grass.

“hm?” he replied while laying down on the ground, eyes closed and limbs sprawled about.

patches of sunlight peeked through the leaves of the big oak tree they were sitting under and gently graced minho’s face. his hair was fanned out and jisung swore that he could count his eyelashes from a mile away.

_ he’s beautiful. _

“have you ever thought-”

_ about what? about loving me. about running off into the middle of nowhere just so we can be alone together. about staying together forever. i want you to be mine minho. nobody else’s. you’re my world but do i even mean anything to yo- _

“thought about what?” 

_ fuck. _

“nevermind.”

the silence that followed was peaceful, but minho could feel that something was off. he watched the rays of sun dance through his eyelids for another thirty seconds or so before turning to his side and finally opening his eyes. jisung was sitting there, eyes darting around and fingers restless.

minho frowned. 

“what’s up?”

the younger finally looked back down at him, and minho felt his heart jump the same way it did  _ every single time. _

“oh not much- i’ve just been thinking.”

  
  


“about?”

_ you. _

“chem test tomorrow”

“ah”

this time, the air was filled with something heavy that minho couldn’t quite place.

they stayed like that for a while, minho laying on the ground and jisung spacing out on the table. his feet turned inwards on the bench chair naturally, and minho absolutely adored it.

“oh!” jisung jumped at the other boy’s outburst.

“wh-”

he collected himself and looked down at minho who was holding a dandelion in his left hand, eyes twinkling. 

“you wanna make a wish?”

the older's brows furrowed in confusion. 

“is that what dandelions are for?” minho questioned.

“i mean, yeah- what else are they supposed to do?”

“my mom always told me that if you can blow it out with one breath, you’d find the person you love someday”

jisung’s heart sank. 

_ i wonder who that’ll be _

he looked off to the side and resumed his finger fiddling.

minho drew a deep breath in and blew, eyes squeezing shut as always.

  
  
  


_ jisung. i love jisung. _

❁>

his hands trembled as he downed the last one, taking a seat on the bathroom counter and letting out a deep, shaky sigh. 

he pulled out the polaroid and smiled. the photo was more than three years old, with bent edges and tiny scratches all over the surface. it was a simple shot, really: the first one he took with his camera as a matter of fact.

❁

“minnie! let me take one of you first!!!” jisung borderline screeched as he held the bright blue camera up excitedly.

minho swiveled around in his desk chair and sighed as he threw a peace sign up.

“you have to smileeeee!” jisung pouted. 

the older boy grunted and allowed his lips to curve into a soft smile.

_ click. _

❁

he was still beautiful, even when he was half-assedly posing for an impromptu picture.

jisung ran his thumb across the fading colors and sighed yet again, this time in relief.

he gently set the pill bottle down and dropped to the floor, back against the sink cabinets. 

_ god  _

he thought.

_ what have i done? _

bits and pieces of his entire life flew past his mind. all of the voices, the screaming, the arguing. he would've felt the searing pain of the beatings if it weren’t for the fog surrounding his head. what was that feeling anyway? it was almost like his lungs were filling up with water.

more and more memories from the past resurfaced and everything became a blur of blue, black, and grey. his head felt heavy and the cloud continued to whirl around his head. his breaths were getting shorter and shorter

_ it almost feels like a panic attack.  _ he’d sure had his fair share in those.

he almost let himself drown in despair until one particular memory surfaced as a bright yellow in the sea of grey.

_ of course it was minho. _

as the boy came into his life, the colors got brighter and brighter- all the way till dull clouds turned into vivid constellations of red, pink, and yellow. 

“thank you” was all he’d written. he left the note at the base of the oak three-  _ their  _ oak tree. 

it was enough. minho would know.

❁>

it wasn’t enough. it wasn’t fucking enough. minho screamed, the cry ripping through his throat. thank you? THANK YOU? just what the hell did that mean?

_ how can you thank me when i wasn’t there when you needed it?  _

god. FUCK. jisung. no.

no no no no nononono NO

“ _ NO! _ ” minho shrieked into the valley. as if that would do anything.

his ears rang as the faint echoes of his scream bounced back to him. 

❁

he really meant it. minho was his everything. his world. his only hope.

too bad he wouldn’t be able to tell him in person. 

he took one last look at the polaroid of the older, eyes trailing over his features. the smooth curve of his lips. his shining eyes. his pretty nose. 

he really was beautiful.

_ minho _

he let his head fall back with a thud onto the cabinet door. 

everything was too much. jisung was weak. he couldn’t help it. the voices told him to do it too.

_ i’m sorry, minho. _

his eyes fell shut.

_ i love you. _  
  
  


❁

  
“what do you mean he’s at the hospital??!” minho shouted into the mic.

there are many ways to wake minho up, but getting called at 5 in the morning and being told that your best friend was dying is definitely not preferable.

he could hear jisung’s mom, voice fuzzy through the speaker of his phone.

“ _ minho, jisung tried to ki-” _

“no he didn’t.”

  
  


he grabbed his keys and ran out of the house, not even bothering to close the door. his phone was hanging on for dear life between his ear and shoulder as he yanked at the car handle.

“fuck- shit- fucking OPEN YOU PIECE OF SHIT”

_ “minho, sweetie, please calm do-” _

“DON’T FUCKING SWEETIE ME MRS.HAN.”

he slammed the door shut and shoved his key into the ignition, starting his car.

_ “what did you mean, he didn’t kill himself?” _

“HE’S NOT FUCKING DEAD!” his head was pounding and his vision blurred. “IF ANYTHING, YOU’RE THE ONE WHO KILLED HIM. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO FUCKING CALM ABOUT THIS? YOUR SON IS DYING AND YOU’RE TELLING  _ ME _ TO CALM DOWN?”

he heard mrs.han whimper.

_ “it’s all i can do”  _ her voice broke.

minho’s eye widened at the pure  _ audacity  _ of the woman.

“ALL YOU CAN DO? ALL YOU AN  _ FUCKING  _ DO?” 

he slammed his foot down on the gas. the cops were the last thing he needed to worry about.

“LET ME TELL YOU WHAT YOU COULD’VE DONE, MRS.HAN. DON’T YOU THINK FOR A DAMN MINUTE THAT I DON’T KNOW THE SHIT YOU’VE PUT HIM THROUGH. WHAT YOU SHOULD’VE DONE WAS TO BE AN ACTUAL-”

he hit the brakes and cursed, tires screeching to a halt. thank god this was a small town, or else he’d have a trail of police cars tailing after him.

it took ages for the man to hobble across the street and minho was damn near running him over.

he could hear sobbing on the other end of the line. as if she gave a shit. 

_ “i’m-” _

“i hope you burn in hell.” 

minho hung up, voice eerily cold.

he chucked his phone onto the passenger’s seat in frustration and started speeding after the street was finally clear.

for the first time in a while, minho let himself cry. with both hands on the steering wheel, his tears streamed freely down his face. this wasn’t happening. not to jisung.

he didn’t even get to say goodbye to him-

he didn’t even get to say i love you.

_ he’s fine. _

_ he can do it. _

_ jisung is going to make it. he’ll run into my arms and i’ll hold him and tell him i’m sorry for not being there. that i’m sorry for knowing and not confronting him sooner. that i’m sorry for not telling him that he was everything to me. _

he pulled into the closest parking space to the hospital and ran out of his car, nearly tripping over the curb. the glass door automatically opened and he burst into the waiting room, making eye contact with the receptionist and rushing over to the desk.

“jisung. do you have a patient named han jisung?”

“i- i can look that up for you.” the lady nervously looked at him while she typed his name into her computer. minho didn’t blame her; he’d bust in at the ass crack of dawn and looked like a mental hospital escapee.

the receptionist was taking way too long and he was running out of patience- he was just about to start yelling when she finally gave him an answer.

“he’s in the emergency department,” she said. “visitors outside of family are n-”

too late. minho was already sprinting down the hallway, following the neon red signs to what he prayed was the emergency hall. 

“SIR?! SIR!!! NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO VISIT THE EMERGENCY ROOMS! SIR!”

he burst through a set of double doors and looked down the dimly lit corridor to see jisung’s mother sitting alone outside of a room. he nearly passed out. 

“when does he get out.”

his mom just sat there, curled into herself and trembling.

“i said when does he get out”

there was still no response. god, minho could just about strangle that woman right now.

“WHEN DOES JISUNG GET OUT”

the woman choked on a broken sob and looked up at him. something about her eyes was wrong; they looked empty, deadened.

“he’s not going to make it, minho.”

“yes he will.” he answered, voice flat.

“the doctor said they can’t do it.” 

“i don’t give a FLYING SHIT about what the fucking doctor said, tell me when jisung gets out of that damned room or else i’ll go in myself”

“his liver is damaged beyond repair.”

minho clenched his fists, digging his nails into the skin of his palm. just as he was about to completely lose it, the door to jisung’s room opened and the doctor stepped out into the hallway.

he looked at the man in the white coat with hope, almost a gaze of relief. jisung would be alright. jisung didn’t succeed and minho could tell him what he needed to s-

“5:46AM, july 27th. han jisung, 17, has passed away due to  t ricyclic antidepressant and benzodiazepine  overdose.”

something inside of him shattered. this wasn’t real.

“ _ NO, _ ” he screeched with his entire body. it was a cry that came not just from his throat but from every ounce of his entire being. 

“JISUNG”

he tried to push past the doctor but the 180 cm man had too much of an advantage over him. they pushed and shoved, all while minho was hysterically screaming and there were even more tears than before pouring down his face. he saw red and knocked the man out with a yell and a single punch. the nurses, upon seeing his state, immediately left the scene and contacted security.

“409, backup to emergency department, room 611”

minho had already stepped over the poor doctor’s body and was standing at the foot of the bed. 

he couldn’t move- all he could do was stare at the boy’s face.

there were tubes and needles everywhere with indecipherable lines and charts all over the monitors. he’d never seen anything more lifeless.

where was the boy that laughed with him at the smallest things and cried over the smallest tragedies? where was he, the bright and happy ray of sunshine that completely changed his life?

all he saw was a corpse void of a soul and any signs of life. his mouth was half open and his eyes half-closed; it seemed like his cheeks had sunken in and he looked so,  _ so  _ empty.

_ he usually can’t go for a second without moving around. why is he so still? _

“j-jisung?” he tried to speak, voice cracking.

they say that when someone dies, they look almost as if they’re sleeping.

jisung looked anything but at rest.

“jisung, please,” he croaked.

  
  


“ _ say something” _

❁

cold.

everything was so cold.

_ who am i?  _ his brain was empty of all thoughts and he was curled into himself in a fetal position.

_ where am i?  _ he was drifting away with absolutely nothing but pure darkness around him. where was his sense of touch? taste? smell? hearing?

it was just cold.

suddenly, a high pitched whine pierced his ears. he couldn’t even whip his head around to find the source of the sound.

he just drifted, further and further away to nothingness.

_ “j-jisung?” _

  
  



	2. bloody tears, and your hand misses mine

he couldn’t get his feet to move. 

all he could manage was staring at the younger, head spinning and tears falling. 

the faint sound of footsteps could be heard down the hall. they were going to take him. take him away from jisung.

minho took a slow step and reached for his hand. it was cold. so, so cold.

a sob escaped his throat. 

_ i _ _ can’t do this _ . 

he held on desperately, as if he could restore the warmth of jisung's hand, but he found that his own was only getting colder. 

it wasn’t working.

he let go and the younger’s arm fell limply onto the pristine hospital bed.

suddenly everything was too bright. the fluorescent glow of the lights and the blindingly white hospital furniture jabbed at his eyes. loud. too loud. he couldn’t breathe.

_ i have to get out of here _

stay with jisung.

_ run. _

and that’s what he did.

  
  


❁

  
  


_ i can move again. _

he stuck his legs out and stretched, tired of being curled up into a ball. everything around him is gradually fading from black to a soft grey.

_ wait _

the dull grey is turning into a bright white

_ no _

he tries to close his eyes again but the light is getting brighter and brighter

_ i can’t go back _

he can’t- not after giving up like that

_ please, i don’t want to- _

“jisung!” 

minho’s voice cuts through the space and he snaps his eyes open.

“minho?” he mumbles in confusion

“JISUNG!!!”

he looks up and sees a silhouette drifting in his direction. as it gets closer, jisung can make out a hand reaching towards him- it sports a delicate silver ring on the first knuckle of the index finger.

it’s minho.

the boy screeches his name and receives his own with the same volume and excitement. the nearer he gets, the clearer his features, and he lets himself trail his eyes over the smooth curve of his lips

his pretty nose

his shining eyes

and nothing has ever felt more like home. 

  
  


“i thought i lost you,” he sighs in relief. the older boy smiles.

“you’ll never lose me, jisung.”

he smiles, comforted, and reaches for minho’s hand

yet something pulls him back. 

he can feel his eyebrows furrow in confusion as he continues to grab at the hand- it’s like two magnets of the same pole: he couldn’t touch the other without being pushed back himself.

“you’ll never lose me, jisung” he repeats.

he turns his attention from his hand to the boy’s face and covers his mouth in shock. there’s blood crawling down his cheek from the corner of his eyes.

“hyung?” he asks, voice shaking.

his eyes don’t look as inviting anymore.

“you’ll never lose me”

there’s more blood, too much, and jisung can only watch in horror as he pulls his hand back.

hurt and confusion flickers across minho’s face, and he can see the older desperately stretching his arm towards him.

_ “jisung.” _

he reaches forward and can only scream as the light drags him back.

❁

  
  


guns are heavier than you’d expect. 

the boy exhales as he trails his finger down the barrel.

_ i’m sorry i couldn’t tell you, jisung. _

the metal is so cold that it feels like it’s burning into his skin.

_ but i’ll be able to in a bit. _

he holds it up and the steel tunnel feels like it’s searing into his forehead.

_ i wish i could’ve seen you one last time, my love _

but he couldn’t keep himself from this for any longer. his hand is shaking as his finger makes its way towards the trigger.

_ please wait for me. _

and he hears a click

❁

_ strange _

he thought

_ gunshots are supposed to be loud. _

  
  
  


❁

  
  


he gasps as he jolts up from bed, hand outstretched. everything’s bright white and he can hear the whining of machinery and a rapid beeping that makes his head pulse. there’s cold sweat running down his temple and something just isn't right.

he examines the empty room and meets nothing but an overly bright lightbulb and the smell of antiseptics. of course it didn’t fucking work.

_ you really can’t do anything right, can you? _

the door creaks open and jisung sees a pair of slippers that are all too familiar. he looks up, meets his mother’s eyes, and prays that he’s in the afterlife.

“jisung?” she says in disbelief.

she steps toward him and he flinches.

_ DON’T TOUCH ME, DON’T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW _

that’s all he wants to scream, but his vocal chords aren’t responding to him. 

“jisung.” 

his name is apparently the only word she knows as she falls on her knees and starts crying, and if jisung weren’t half-dead on meds he would’ve called her out on her bullshit.

then he remembers his dream. dream? vision??

  
  


minho’s blood covered face flashes through his mind and the wave of panic that washes over him is all it takes for him to start desperately pulling at the iv tubes stuck in his arms. 

“i- need-” he struggles to form words as he rips the cords out of his skin. 

“to get- out” his mom starts screeching and he would give anything in the world to knock that obnoxious cunt’s teeth in.

all he can think about is the pure hurt that’d filled the emptiness in minho’s eyes and the image echoes around every part of his being.

_ please _ he begged.

_ make it stop. _

his head grows light and the world starts spinning as he continues to fight against the seemingly infinite amount of wires entangled around him and just before his vision goes black he lets out one two-syllable word:

  
  
  


_ "minho" _

  
  
  
  


❁

  
  


_ where am i?  _

minho had woken in a soft field of bright yellow dandelions. the petals caressed his skin and when he sat up he could still see the same old bench that he and jisung used to sit on, except the wood had worn out and it was reduced to nothing more than a few planks of wood over time.

he was in the dandelion field.

he noticed that his feet were numb as he wobbled up to the big oak tree. 

_ how did i get here? _

the rough bark of the tree scraped against his fingertips as he ran them across the trunk. 

_ jisung should be here anytime now. _

they’d planned to meet here, right?

it’s what they always did. he must be late.

right?

_ it’s okay, jisung. _

minho stood in the middle of the field, yellow flowers stretching endlessly around him.

  
  
  
  


_ i can wait for you. _

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
